


Chemical Reactions - Part 11

by Winchester_with_Wings



Series: Chemical Reactions - Teacher AU [11]
Category: DCU, The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Barry Allen without speed, DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPLICATE, Do Not Translate, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Secret Relationship, no metahumans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 16:03:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10390494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: Based off an anon request for Sub!Barry. I took it to mean either Submissive!Barry or Substitute Teacher! Barry. This series is for Substitute Teacher!Barry Allen.SERIES SUMMARY: Being a teacher at Central City Academy doesn’t leave much time for a personal life. You didn’t really notice or care…that is until the day the new substitute science teacher, Barry Allen makes an appearance.PART 11 SUMMARY: Barry teaches your class.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hope ya’ll like this fluff!

Ever since Barry had teased your students with the promise of some fun science experiments, you hadn’t heard the end of it.

And then you finally gave into Barry’s begging!

Barry loved having a lesson plan as an excuse to get together. But every time when he invited you over for dinner and school work, the only thing you guys _did_ was each other!

And so you spent the night a few times this week. You and Barry would make dinner together, grade homework together, watch tv together and then fall into bed together.

You can’t remember the last time you felt this happy. And sometimes you feel like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it doesn’t. You and Barry hide your relationship well for the week following homecoming.

Thursday morning finds the two of you in bed, pressing snooze on Barry’s alarm.

“You’re going to have to get permission from the administration, you know,” you advise Barry in a soft, thoughtful tone. In order for Barry to teach a lesson in your classroom, he would need to get approval; he’d only been hired to substitute for the chemistry teacher.

You’re resting your head on his bare chest, listening to the peaceful beating of his heart. Barry’s fingers play with your hair. But he must grin and sigh because you feel the rising of his chest and the quiet hum he makes while he thinks.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he mumbles. You drag your fingers along the soft skin of his stomach and he chuckles, covering your hand with his. “That tickles.” For added measure, Barry pulls the sheet covering your naked bodies a little higher. You snuggle closer and he chuckles. “We should probably get up.”

“I don’t wanna. I want to stay here in bed, with you.”

“Well then let’s promise that we’ll return here tonight…after work.”

You agree to those terms.

* * *

Dr. Ray Palmer, the Assistant Dean of CCA, is more than eager to meet with you and Barry during lunch. He’s kind to everyone on staff but seems exceptionally friendly with Barry.

“I love these kind of experiments!” he grins as he flips through Barry’s lesson plan. “This is what got me interested in science in the first place. Oh, yes! You should do this one!” He points to one particular experiment and you try to read it from the other side of the table.

“So does that mean Barry has permission?” you ask for clarification. Ray looks at you, befuddled. Then he beams at Barry.

“Of course!”

“Awesome,” Barry claps his hands once and then crosses his arms over his chest with pride.

“But on one condition,”  Ray adds. You freeze and Barry’s eyebrows knit together. “I get to come and observe.” You and Barry sigh with relief.

“Totally. No problem,” Barry agrees.

“How did you guys meet?” Ray asks as everyone cleans up their lunch and prepares to head to class.

“Oh um we uh…” you stumble over your words.

“I spent some time with her class on Field Day. The kids love me,” Barry saves you and he’s all too proud to admit his popularity with 9 year olds. You roll your eyes and Ray chuckles when he catches you.

“I’m sure you are Mr. Allen. Well I have to head back to my office but let me know what time you guys do it tomorrow.”

“I’ll send you an email,” you respond as Ray leaves. You and Barry hang back.

You two always wait until everyone has cleared out of the Teacher’s Lounge to kiss and say goodbye.

* * *

You schedule Barry’s science lesson for that Friday afternoon. He gets the last lesson of the school day so that if the kids are riled up, you won’t have to deal with them for too long.

The lesson starts out great, with Barry asking a question and getting close to zero responses.

“Who here knows what a lava lamp is?” One or two kids shyly raise their hands. These kids might be too young. Barry pretends to be shocked and embarrassed, as if the children have offended him.  “Alright, alright, well once I show you what they are, then you’re going to be begging Mom and Dad for one next Christmas.”

Barry starts to unpack some of the grocery bags on the table at the front of the class. You hand out the worksheets Barry had previously printed out. Ray is at the back of the class, observing with a happy grin. He asks for a worksheet in an excited whisper.

“But the best part of today?” Barry smiles, holding up a generic plastic water bottle. In front of him is food coloring, plastic cups, vegetable oil, and a box of effervescent tablets. “I’m going to help you create your own lava lamp to take home.”

The kids are jumping up and down in their chairs as you, Barry, and yes, even Ray, hand out all of the ingredients to each child. Ray is intent on participating now. Their first instruction is to empty the water bottles into plastic cups.

Following Barry’s instructions, which are written down for them with additional scientific information, the kids fill the water bottles three quarters of the way with the provided vegetable oil. They top it off with some of the water.

They’re then told to put about 10 drops of food coloring into their bottles. There’s some chaos as your students impatiently call out for a specific color and some drip more than 10 drops for extra saturation.

“Now break up that tablet each of you got into a couple of pieces,” Barry instructs, demonstrating with his own water bottle. He picked the red food dye. “Each time you put in one of those small pieces, you’re going to see some bubbles.” One girl squeals with excitement. “Only add the next piece after the bubbles have calmed down. And then close the bottle. Screw that lid on tight!”

You go around the room to double check the bottles before Barry continues. Barry starts to tilt his water bottle, move it back and forth. The little bubbles which had formed combine to create lava and move up and down as Barry moves his water bottle.

The class copies him and everything goes as planned. The kids are excited and start moving around the room to show off their creations to each other. Some colors look better than others.

“Now, who can explain how this works?”

“It’s the food coloring!” one child guesses.

“It’s the oil!” guesses another.

Barry takes control of the class, getting everyone back in their seats as he explains the science behind water and oil and how they don’t mix. He doesn’t hold all of their attention. Some are too fascinated by their new lava lamp.

“Do we have time for another experiment?” Barry asks you. You realize suddenly that you’ve dazed out and have been staring at him for far too long. Barry grins knowingly while your class begs you. You pull your eyes away from Barry’s ass to look up at the clock.

“Maybe…which one?”

“How about one that takes us outside?” Barry suggests. The kids cheer and Ray approves of it.

“Alright, but it’s almost the end of the day, so everyone get your things together so you can leave from the playground.” Your class is rowdy as they pack up their backpacks and tuck their lava lamps into their bag as well. They line up at the door and follow you and Barry out as you carry one last grocery bag with you.

It’s sure to be a crowd pleaser and you’re glad you’ve come outside because they were already getting pretty loud in your classroom.

The students get a sugar high just looking at the Coca-Cola.

You stand back and watch as Barry teaches your class again. They all respond so well to him and he’s so great with them that you think he might have missed his calling by teaching teenagers.

He manages to get all the kids to stand in a large circle. You, Ray, and Barry carefully take the lids off of the three large bottles of soda. The soda wants to fizz-up just from being opened but that’s counter-productive to today’s lesson.

Barry cracks open a pack of Mentos tables. He assigns a bottle to you and Ray and himself and then prescribes a set number of Mentos so that each bottle reacts differently.

“Alright kids! On the count of three!” Barry calls out.

“One! Two! Three!”

You all release the Mentos and retreat instantly.

Your class squeals with glee. You can hear this fizzing soda shoot up into the air but you’re still walking away. You bump into Barry and nearly trip and fall. He catches you, wrapping his arms around you. But in doing so, he’s turned you both within range of the soda fountains.

When the sticky soda comes down, it rains upon on you. You seek shelter in Barry’s arms but it’s too late.

“Ohhh! Oh no!” The students and Ray shout and groan.

Your blouse has been sprayed with carbonated soda and your hair is soaked. You can already feel the stickiness settling in. Barry’s arms are wet but that’s it. The rest of him was spared, shielded by your frame.

“Oh shit,” Barry whispers so that only you hear him. “I am so sorry,” he apologizes at a more reasonable volume. He holds you out at arm’s length to take in the sight of you. The front of your shirt has remained dry, which is good because you weren’t planning on getting in a wet t-shirt contest anytime soon. “Y/N, Sweetie, I am so sorry!” he repeats himself. The slip of affection goes unnoticed. Ray is keeping the kids at bay, some of them want to try to reignite the soda so that they can dance in “soda rain” too, others want to check on you.

“Miss Y/L/N? Are you okay?” Ray asks with genuine sincerity. You nod, tucking some of your damp hair behind your ear. Barry starts to close the spent soda bottles and toss them into a garbage bag he’d brought with as preparation. He disposes of it in a nearby playground trash can.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I think I need to change my clothes though,” you shrug it off with a smile. “Accidents happen. Science can be messy. We should’ve taken proper precautions,” you add for good measure as a lesson to your students.

The school bell rings then and you’re startled. You look down at your appearance and groan. You can’t exactly escort your students to the front of the school and risk getting seen by parents.

“I’ll take care of it, Miss Y/L/N,” Ray offers politely. “Why don’t you have Mr. Allen take you inside so you can get cleaned up?” He suggests it just as Barry cups your elbow.

“Come on,” he guides you to the door closest to where you’re standing, which happens to be closest to your classroom as well.

“Goodbye, Miss Y/L/N!” your students call out.

“Have a great weekend!” you respond over your shoulder.

Luckily, no one seems to catch you and Barry walking to your classroom, which is a relief because you can already hear your shoes sticking to the floor. Barry locks the door behind him and covers the window in the door.

“Babe, I am soo sorry!” he exclaims, approaching you with open arms and a puppy dog frown. He kisses you, leaning in so as not to touch your wet clothes to his. “It was a total accident.”

“Oh I know. I’m not mad, Barry,” you reassure him. He sighs with relief. “It happens. This is not the first mess I’ve encountered teaching fourth graders.” Barry chuckles and watches as you touch your sticky hands together.

“So now what? I think you might need to take a shower.” Barry gets in close, looking down at you and starting to play with a strand of your hair.

“Oh?” You look him in the eyes, loving the hint of desire that’s always hiding behind his eyes when he looks at you.

“Yeah, but at whose place? Mine or yours?” You shrug and smile slyly at your (secret) boyfriend. The thrill of kissing in your classroom sents a chill up your spine.

“I don’t care. All I know is that I need to get out of these clothes as soon as possible,” you tease, carding your fingers into Barry’s soft, brown hair. Barry starts to pull at the hem of your blouse, loosening it from your skirt where it’s tucked in.

“Yes, m’am.” He claims your mouth a moment later.


End file.
